biohazard girls
by sweetwatersong
Summary: What is it inside her that makes her valuable - Extremis, or who she is?


**biohazard girls**  
>rating: pg<br>characters: Pepper Potts, Natasha Romanoff  
>warnings: none<p>

summary: What is it inside her that makes her valuable - Extremis, or who she is?

author's note: For sneakyhufflepuff and the prompt, "The consequences of radioactive goop." Based on the idea that Tony didn't neutralize Pepper's Extremis after IM3.

_biohazard girls_

"Natasha?" You ask, the word spilling out of your mouth with the thick slime that would choke you, suffocate you, because she's kneeling beside you, shaking out a blanket, guarding herself and her hands as she leans in.

"You're okay," she tells you while she wraps the woolen fabric around you, and you can tell she's lying.

It's not as hard as you thought it would be.

"Natasha, don't, you shouldn't be -" You try to swat at her pale fingers, to keep her from touching you and the ooze that coats your skin, plasters your clothing to every inch of your body, but she's ruthless and efficient and your arms are swaddled before you realize it. It's nice to think that's why you can't stop her, why you've failed to ward her off; not that your hands shook, not that you couldn't force them to move quickly, if at all.

"Shut up," she says, an undercurrent in her voice you don't want to think too long about, a fierce light in her eyes that wasn't there before. "Stark, I have her."

And there's chatter on her earpiece, there's a rumbling in the air, but it's getting hard enough to keep your chest rising that you don't have the energy to spend on listening. There's still slime catching in your throat, lingering in your lungs, and you convulse as your body fights to force it all out; she holds on, holds on, her fingers white on the blanket and her hands steady on your shaking frame.

"Stay with me, Pepper," she tells you, brilliant red against the backdrop of broken glass and yellow gel, and you can't catch your breath long enough to answer.

There's no Extremis left now, no force to make your body heal; it's soaked into the radioactive ooze pooled all around you, drawn out for another mad scientist and his insanity. But you'll try, oh God, you'll try, and coughing out air and poisoned ooze alike, you're glad you're finally not alone.

It feels like the ending of a story, not the beginning of some fantastical superhero tale, and you're okay with that. You're okay.

You're -

—

"Pepper?"

She looks up from the tablet, a smile already stretching her pale lips. "Natasha. Come in."

Natasha enters the hospital room casually, her movements calm and steady. Pepper still catches the faintest hesitation that gives her lie of assurance away and grins.

"I'm not contagious, I promise."

"You might want to mention that to Stark. He gave me very clear instructions about the decontamination shower I have to take once I leave," she responds, eyebrow arching, and Pepper's quiet laugh turns into a cough. Natasha pauses by the foot of the bed when Pepper turns her head and swallows, controlling it before she looks back at the other redhead.

"It's getting better," she reassures her, and inclines her head at the chair beside her bed. "Have a seat?"

Natasha does, settling in among the bouquets of flowers as she eyes Pepper's tablet.

"Stark Industries probably wouldn't fall apart without me," Pepper says in acknowledgement of the mute comment. "But let's be honest, I'm not trusting Tony to try to help and end up making a bigger mess than he started with."

"Which is why you had his private workshop built half a continent away from the manufacturing plants," Natasha observes, then takes a better look at her. "How are you doing?"

"As far as anyone can tell, I'm just Pepper Potts again, human of the normal garden type variety." And she doesn't miss the energy surging below her skin, the sensation of invincibility that made anything possible, the instinct to _act _without thought or care for consequences, for the people around her - but.

"Don't let that stop you from doing anything," says the woman who also falls under the 'ordinary' category, tipping her head, and Pepper smiles.

"Can you imagine where we'd be if I did? Or you?" She asks, stretching out her free hand to touch Natasha's where it rests by her bedside. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Natasha replies, holding on gently, and they sit in the peace for a moment. Then, "And Tony would be attempting to rule the world if you let being normal stop you, so I don't like to imagine it all that often."

Pepper laughs again, and it doesn't hurt at all this time around.

_fin_


End file.
